


Undertale Writing Prompts

by AlphysArchives



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Criminal Grillby, Former Friends, Good versus Evil, Rivalry, Stitches, Unconscious, Villain on your doorstep, Wounded, Writing Prompt, drugged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphysArchives/pseuds/AlphysArchives
Summary: Random collection of Undertale based writing prompts. Tags and characters will be added with each chapter!Feel free to suggest prompts!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. Why are you here? (Grillby and Fellby)

* * *

**Notes** :

Prompt:  
"The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes– they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “…didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms."  
Characters- Underfell Grillby (Villain) and Undertale Grillby (‘Hero’)  
Twist- Vice Versa

* * *

  
A knock broke through Grillby’s literary daydreaming. With a grunting sigh, he placed his book down into his armchair and went to the door. It was well into the night now; the bartender having only just sat down for the night mere moments ago. Adjusting his robe securely over his sleepwear, he cracked the door open just enough to see, and what he saw had him flinging the door wide open.

  
His greedy counterpart, who he refers to as Fellby, was swaying on his stoop, barely able to keep himself upright. His purple flames were flickering low and dark. The long, gaudy, black leather and fur coat that he always wears is slumping off one of his shoulders, the vest and button-up under it are torn. When Grillby looked a moment longer, he saw dark ‘wet’ spots over those tears. That was definitely magma, the elemental equivalent to blood. Worst of all was Fellby’s face. He was breathing heavily, and it looked like it was causing him pain. A long, bleeding cut ran from beside his right ear to his jaw. His sharp glasses were missing, showing his distant, pale purple eyes. Was he… drugged?

  
“Fell, what…” Grillby couldn’t even finish his sentence with how shocked he was. Here was his ‘evil’ counterpart, beaten up, probably drugged, and at his doorstep?

  
“…Thought you could help…” Fell mumbled, his chin swung lower, as if his head was being moved by a river’s current.

  
“Let’s get you inside-” Before Grillby could finish his sentence, Fellby suddenly collapsed. Grillby caught him as best as he could. “Stars, why are you so heavy?” He grunted at the unconscious monster. Pulling Fellby in just enough to close the door, he laid him out on the floor. “I… What the hell?”

  
Am I supposed to actually take care of him? Grillby thought, looking Fellby over. I hate this guy… He’s been nothing but arrogant and selfish and pompous the day I met him. Not to mention how much he has been killing my business with his ‘nightclub.’ He wondered if he could just leave him as he was, but his eyes traced down to that magma-soaked spot on his abdomen. It was at least the size of his hand spread open, and it was spreading slightly around his side as he lay there. You’re going to owe me so much after this…

  
Sighing heavily, Grillby knelt down and fidgeted as he thought of what to do. First thing he had to do was make sure that Fellby was actually unconscious. Last thing that he needs is to get jumped by someone who he is trying to help. Shaking him did nothing, and neither did lightly slapping his face.

  
With the coast clear, the next thing to do was to seal up that wound. Being that elementals were made of fire and magma, and since Grillby couldn’t use healing magic, heat-proof stitches were the only way to go. Thankfully, he always kept some around, seeing as the average person would not have them on hand. Unfortunately, all he had was a sewing needle, which was by no means ideal. The needle was a bit wider than a suture needle, and was straight instead of in a halfmoon shape.

  
“It’ll have to do,” Grillby mumbled to himself, placing the suture and needle aside. “For the love of Asgore, please don’t wake up…” Unbuttoning Fellby’s vest and shirt, Grillby saw that the wound was not as bad as he had thought, thankfully. It was a gash about three inches long, but not too terribly deep. “Okay… simple, I guess. I’ve… done this before… on myself…” He shivered thinking of the stitches in his palm after a run-in with the floor and some broken glass.

  
Forcing his hands to be steady, Grillby stuck the needle into one side of the wound, eased the edges together, and pierced the other side, pulling the string tight before pausing. “…I guess you’re getting a whip stitch, then.” Looping the sutures back to the side he started on, he continued to pull the string through and around the wound. After about fifteen minutes, the string was tied and cut off. Sitting back, Grillby was actually a little proud of his handywork. “Okay, right.”

  
The rest was all basic maintenance. He wiped the ‘blood’ away from Fellby’s abdomen, face, and neck before taping some gauze over the cut on the side of his face. There were some small nicks here and there, but they all were simple enough to tape a cut up bit of gauze over. Those would stop bleeding within an hour or two. There were bruises all over his abdomen and face, however there was not much to be done about those.

  
“Now what to do with you?” Grillby leaned back onto his feet, still kneeling beside Fellby. He could just leave him on the floor, but that was a surefire way to end up even deeper onto Fellby’s hitlist than he was before. But he’d be damned if he ever put him in his own bed. All that left was his beloved armchair. “You definitely owe me big,” he mumbled, grabbing some towels to put over the chair to keep it clean.

  
It took quite a while, but eventually Fellby managed to twitch his fingers. Nothing else responded for a while till his hand moved. Focusing on his eyes, he fought as hard as he could to open them. He caught a glimpse of something orange before nearly being pulled back into unconsciousness. Stubborn and a little scared, he fought again, this time seeing a lit fireplace.

  
“Awake?” A tired, almost impatient, voice asked him. Fellby tried to move his mouth, even to just make a sound, but he couldn’t. He managed to make a half-fist as a way to show that he was at least able to hear him. “You even there?” A flaming, orange hand waved in front of his face, a matching face walking up to him. Out of sheer annoyance, Fellby managed to grunt a little, but it came out broken and weak. “Come on, wake up a little.”

  
You’re not helping, asshole, Fellby thought. In time, he managed to lift his head off of the wing of the chair, looking around. His coat was draped over him like a blanket, his tall, leather, heeled boots next to his feet, and a mug of something on the table next to him. Grillby was giving occasional glances up from his book, where he was patiently waiting for him to come to. When Fellby went to get up, Grillby spoke up, calmly marking his book and setting it aside.

  
“I wouldn’t do that. I had to stitch up your abdomen, and if you move too much, you’ll tear them. And you’re not going anywhere tonight without passing out.” Fellby just scowled at him. “Care to tell me why you decided to fall unconscious at my door?” Grillby bit, not leaving room for argument. He was only answered with another glare. For what felt like the hundredth time, he sighed, holding out the mug. “Drink this, it’ll help you wake up.” Another glare. “It’s tea, relax,” he snipped, walking off somewhere that Fellby couldn’t see.

  
“Actually,” Grillby started, “it’s obvious that you were drugged. You were attacked. And you, for some reason, thought that I was the solution. So unless you can convince me that whoever attacked you isn’t going to come knocking on my door as well-” Grillby rounded around the chair, a large chef’s knife was now being pointed at his counterpart’s chest “-you’re not welcome.”

  
Fellby looked from the knife that was an inch from his chest, to the mug, then to Grillby. Out of sheer exhaustion and confusion, he started chuckling, only stopping when the knife’s point touched just above his soul.

  
“Funny… I’m not laughing.” Grillby’s flames stoked to a darker orange, hints of red flaring up here and there. “You have nearly destroyed my business. I will not let you destroy my home as well.” Fellby brushed the knife away with a weak hand.

  
“I-” Fellby rasped, clearing his throat just enough to be heard, but it was still harsh. “I don’t remember much. T-There was this customer, and he was harassing others and…” he shook his head a little to clear his mind. “I wanted him out after he ran off a few other customers, so I slipped a drug into his drink. He was a big bull, so it would have just settled him down. But he… he must have seen. He insisted that I drink with him too, and I have to to avoid him getting any more stirred up. I didn’t see it, but… somehow my drink ended up being the one that I drugged. I swear, I never took my eyes off of it. I could barely stay up, then he jumped me. Next thing I know, I’m picking myself up from glass, forced everyone left in the bar out, and… I just left. I just felt like I had to get help. I don’t know why. I was jumped, drugged, and I still don’t remember entirely what happened, okay?” He looked away, trying to look angry. The knife pointed back at him.

  
“And where is this bull monster now?”

  
“How should I know?” Fellby shouted, leaning forward, daring the knife to pierce him. “I got up and he was gone.” His leaned back, wincing slightly as his hand ghosted over the stitches. “Trust me, I don’t want anyone seeing that I’m here anyway.”

  
Grillby lowered the knife. He had to give him one thing: there was no way that Fellby would willingly come to his place if it weren’t necessary. Their public rivalry was something everyone either cheered on or feared. Even Grillby had done his fair share of provoking drama, just to remind people that he was not one to back down.  
“You can stay the night. But come morning, you are gone. Do you understand?”

  
“Phft,” Fellby scoffed, “trust me, I’d leave now if I could.” Placing the mug and his coat aside, he looked at the stitches. “Ha, of course you’d be some sewing sissy! Even my mother didn’t sew this good,” Fellby teased, the closest thing that Grillby will ever get as a ‘thank you.’

  
“I’ve had my fair share of stitches. Out of necessity, not some pastime.”

  
“Yeah, like you’re one to stitch yourself up,” Fellby scoffed again, feeling over the gauze on the side of his face. Grillby rolled up the sleeve of his robe, showing four long, erratic scars across and down his arm.

  
“Mean to tell me you’ve never been in a bar fight, before? And you show me someone who is willing to stitch up an elemental besides another elemental.” Grillby rolled the sleeve back down. “I’m going to bed. Stay out of my stuff. And I’ll know if you do… You should sleep too.”


	2. Ready as I'll Ever Be (Gaster and Grillby)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt/Idea: “Ready as I’ll Ever Be,” from Tangled; The Series  
> Character: Grillby and Gaster  
> Background: King Asgore has ordered Grillby to kill the human with a gun. Grillby goes to Gaster to get an order for enchanted armor filled.

“Why can’t you understand that this is the only way?”

“ _Only way?_ ” Gaster whipped around to Grillby, fighting back the magic from his eyes. “You think killing children is the only way? Did you go mad in that damn cell of yours?”

“Did _you_ go mad being stuck in this pointless lab? You will never find a way to break that barrier. Those humans are the only way out, and I’m going to bring them to Asgore,” Grillby growled, adjusting the sword at his hip. “Now either you fill this armor order for me, written in the king’s words, or you’ll be the one in a cell.”

“Oh, really?” Gaster leaned his hip against the counter he was working on. “King Asgore would imprison me, the Royal Scientist, the one who has risen us up from nothing but rock, over a stupid, pointless, merciless, ruthless order that drove his very own wife away?” He rolled his eyes, handing the paper back. “You can tell ‘his majesty’ that I stand by my queen.”

“Your queen? She’s dead, Gaster-”

“And where’s the proof?” He interrupted. “Where’s her dust, where are her forgotten clothes? Surely someone would have found something. But no, she walked away. She left Asgore a letter to read to her people that she would not stand by as innocent children are murdered. And now I see that it will be by your hand?” Gaster sighed and dropped his elbows to the counter, talking gently now. “What the hell happened? The two of us used to be inseparable, and then you just… became a criminal. For no reason other than for kicks.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Grillby mumbled. “That ‘innocent kid’ has killed at least seven monsters by now with that… magic bullet thing. No bullets in all of monster kind can kill someone as fast as that thing does.”

“It’s a machine, not magic.” He scoffed to himself, shaking his head. “You talk as though you’ve done this before. Do you have any idea what killing does to a monster’s soul? It’s not as easy on us as it is on humans. You could never be ready for the consequences of that.”

“No, but I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

The scientist stood and looked at Grillby directly for the first time in years. He was broader now, his yellow flames now orange, and looks like he’s been scuffed up in the past. When their eyes connected, a bit of yellow sparked off his head, a bit of hesitance.

“You’ve been pardoned of all your crimes, yes?” Grillby gave a hard nod. “So, what now? What’s stopping you from committing another? You’ve never listened to Asgore’s laws before. Why start now?”

“You’re playing at something, and whatever it is, no,” Grillby grumbled. Gaster had this way of playing mind games. He’s been on the receiving end enough times to know when he’s being set up.

“You’re free now, Grillby! You can do whatever you want! You can be whatever you want, live where you want.”

“I _am_ doing what I want!”

“He’s using you because you’re a fire elemental, Grillby! Why not leave this to the royal guard; that’s what they are for?”

“The guard is full of weak cowards!” Grillby flared at him when he realized Gaster was talking him down from his orders. “Monsters are being killed! If you want to sit here and cower in your little science experiments, fine! Let humans destroy us again! Why don’t you just walk out in front of them and let them finish off another monster species entirely-”

“ _Don’t you dare bring them up!_ ” Gaster screamed. “I have saved dozens of species from extinction, including your own! But that does not make any kind of killing right!” Grillby got within an inch of Gaster’s face, pinning him against the counter, his voice low and growing.

“Then your work is pointless if you decide to do nothing about that human.” Grillby slammed the order back against Gaster’s chest before turning away. “Fill the order or stay out of my way. With humans, it’s kill or be killed.” Gaster stared at the order, speaking up just before Grillby left the room.

“What if we can stop them without killing?” Grillby turned around, just staring at him for a moment.

“And then what? Have a human pet? We need souls, Gaster-”

“I-I’m working on that!” He went on when met with silence. “A-Asgore gave me the… well, the first soul. I’m analyzing it, but… A-And if we can recreate the same properties of the soul… We won’t need to kill! We will have seven souls as soon as I can perfect one of them! You see, I’ve isolated the key feature of human souls-”

“And how long will that take? Years? Decades? Generations? And what about the humans that fall down here?” Grillby crossed his arms, ready to backfire whatever sad excuse comes out of his former friend’s mouth.

“What about us down here? Not all humans are bad. We saw that with… the second one. I actually created a containment system just before I started the soul project! It can easily contain the human from a distance with proper execution.”

“May I see it?” Grillby held his hand out now, walking towards him. Gaster’s eyes brightened. His friend was coming around! Yes, this could work! But he knew Grillby. He was always stubborn, and ironically hotheaded.

“Of course. Any ideas as to what to do after capturing them?” Gaster pulled the small cube device down from a locked cabinet, a few copies of it left up there.

“Kill them. It’s far easier to kill someone when they can’t run,” he said matter-of-factly. Gaster felt his soul run cold, pausing with the cube in hand. “Otherwise, they’d could be hurt and slowly die. Best to get it all over with at once, right? No suffering,” Grillby wagered back.

Gaster looked at the containment device in his hands, weighing his options. Asgore is merciless, and Toriel is missing. A human child is killing monsters with a weapon none of them know how to fight against. They need seven souls to be free. But he can make them if they give him time. Why couldn’t he have more time to change Grillby’s mind? Was it really worth defying Asgore, potentially letting more monsters die, for one human? But what of when the barrier falls, broken by nothing but hatred for humans?

No. None of this is right. Chara was a wonderful human, a beacon to monster kind that a truce was possible. Doing it this way will only wage another war. And monster will fall. Again. Grillby was right about one thing. He cannot sit here and let things happen around him. He had to act.

“You’re not going to change your mind, are you?” Gaster mourned.

“No.” Gaster gave a deep sigh.

“Fine. Take the damn thing.”

“How do I use it?” Grillby held his hand out again.

“Just push the button and- _throw it!_ ” Gaster launched the device forwards as hard as he could. It did not matter if Grillby caught it. It will activate wherever it senses pressure. And of course, Grillby grabbed it in a vain attempt to save it from ‘shattering’. Instead, he found himself back in a cell, surrounded by transparent blue bars.

“What- _No!_ ” He grabbed the bars and felt electricity shoot through his body.

“Haven’t quiet worked out all the little sparks in this prototype. But I’m wondering if I should keep it this way,” Gaster teased, pulling another one of the devices down. “I will capture that human, and you will stay right here. I’m sure you’ll feel right at home.” He walked towards the door, ready to do something for once.

“Not you!” Grillby shouted, stopping him. “Gaster, not you, please! They’ll kill you. You’re the last of the skeletons, don’t do this.” Gaster turned around with a sad smirk.

“You never were observant.” He gestured to a massive tube in the corner of the room, filled with blue and yellow swirling liquids. Hovering inside of it was a skeletal fetus, no bigger than Gaster’s hand. “I have safeguarded that his records are well documented. Even if I do die, others will ensure that he lives. I have vowed my life to the creation and preservation of all life. Even humans.”

Gaster pocketed the device, and walked out, locking the door, and pressing a button beside it. Down the halls he heard scuffling and racing feet as four monsters of different species came to his side. They were Gaster’s right-hand workers, ready to come when the button was pressed for their services.

“We have an order by her majesty,” Gaster said the code simply, heading to the exit, the other following, one speaking up.

“The cube is complete? Are we ready for this so soon?”

“Ready as I'll ever be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want a beforehand or follow-up chapter of this one!
> 
> Check out my Tumblr for more Undertale related posts, stories, and artsy stuff (some made by me)!  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/imnotacatiswear-blog

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/imnotacatiswear-blog


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